The Jade Mountain/On the Border

by Zhang Qiao

Chang Ch'iao

喬　張

ON THE BORDER

Though a bugle breaks the crystal air of autumn,Soldiers, in the look-out, watch at ease todayThe spring wind blowing across green gravesAnd the pale sun setting beyond Liang-chou.For now, on grey plains done with war,The border is open to travel again;And Tartars can no more choose than rivers:They are running, all of them, toward the south.